


The high death of lovers

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Songs of the New World [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Disturbing Themes, M/M, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The many deaths of Maedhros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The high death of lovers

Maedhros has died many times. 

First at Alqualondë, the blood shining on his long sword, when he lifts it dreamily from the chest of a young boy and thinks,  _Ah. So this is what shall now define me._

In Losgar, as the boats burn and his heart breaks and his father watches him with scathing eyes, Maedhros dies anew, and again when they realize the cruelest irony of all – that Amras is missing. 

He dies with his father flaking away to ashes before his eyes, the whirling death of a sailor before a spinning helm, compass lost. 

Perhaps that is why he went so brashly to treat with Angband, and achieved death again, each day dying afresh, on the blasted face of Thangorodrim. (But all those lives were given back, and more, with the sound of Fingon’s song.) 

He dies a little more over the ages, each time the Oath drags his weary body into service. He dies in Doriath, his throat cut with Caranthir, his body hewn at Celegorm’s side, the life leaving him before Curufin’s sightless eyes.

He dies in the forest, seeking the lost children, each footfall a deathblow, and he sees their ghosts behind every tree, and their faces are those of Ambarussa. 

He dies in Sirion, angry and wrecked and  _tired,_  but the last of his aching soul rejoices that at least Amrod and Amras will be reunited once more. 

He dies at the agony in Maglor’s eyes, dies each time he watches the gentle, lovely face of his brother –  _the best of us_ , he thinks – illuminated by flame and blood, those long, musician’s fingers wielding a blade with grim skill. He lets Maglor keep the little Peredhil, because for the first time in many years there is light and love in his brother’s eyes, and that is enough. 

The last death is nothing much, when it happens. The pain delights him because at last – an end.  _Consumed by fire_ , he thinks, dreamily, as the Silmaril blazes death at his breast and the flames catch his hair and char his skin.  _You would find it fitting, father_. 

It is not like this is true death; after all, he has been dead for years. 

His heart stopped beating many long ages ago; his spirit, his lifeblood, the throb of his pulse ending in the bloody mire of the Nirnaeth, trod into once brilliant blue banners. 

Maedhros died on the plains of Anfauglith, a blaze of white light stopping the beat of his heart, halting the flow of blood in his veins, trapping his breath in his lungs, robbing his vision ever of color and his tongue thereafter tasting ashes only. 

And so as the volcano swallows him, he thinks, blissfully,  _At last._ As his skin cracks and his bones warp, he lifts destroyed eyes to the heavens, seeing only bright summer sky, laughing blue eyes, and a light touch on his cheek _. I like the idea of having something on you that I put there. Don’t you?_  

 _Everything worthy of me is yours, beloved,_ he thinks, joyous, and dies. 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The high death of lovers by LiveOakWithMoss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457578) by [pumpkinpodfic (thegreatpumpkin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/pumpkinpodfic)




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